Birthday
by roflZuko
Summary: Ozai said Zuko was lucky to be born. This story is more than a look at Zuko's first day of life. It is the beginning of the hardening of a father's heart.
1. Fighter

**Fighter**

Ursa's ragged breathing calmed as she accepted the bundle of red blankets and clutched it to her heart. Her eyes darted to the man at her bedside but quickly tore away, turning down again. A deep sigh escaped her lips, and the way her breath was so clear, so easily heard made what was missing glaringly obvious. A baby's cries. Her precious, little son didn't make a sound as he lay in her arms. Lady Ursa's face was red, and sweat beaded all across her face as she breathed out again. Still, a warm affection shone in her eyes, and a new kind of love she'd felt growing inside of her for the past nine months consumed her completely. Here in her arms was a treasure to put all the jewels of the world to shame.

All of the pain-just a few moments ago, she'd been so certain that everything was going to end there on the blasted infirmary cot with healers fretting all around and telling her to breathe and push. She had barely been able to breathe, and each push had brought a fresh scream that outperformed the last in agony. Was it really supposed to hurt this much? But all of the grief, all of the panicking her husband had done, all of the pain-Ursa would do it over again in a heartbeat for her beautiful baby boy.

"Zuko," she cooed softly, running her fingers gently over the pale face. It was smooth and flawless, the reflection of everything lovely. "Zuko, Zuko, Zuko." The chant was warm, reverent, like it was a sacred song she was singing for the first time. The infirmary room and all the nurses and even her husband faded away. For a fleeting, perfect instant, her son was the only thing in her world, and he was perfect.

The women around her were not convinced, and neither was Prince Ozai. The baby's skin was pale-a trait true to all people of his nation. But babies were supposed to be ruddier, warmer from their escape of the womb. This boy's skin was pallid. The rich, red blanket he was wrapped in only made his surrounded face look deathly pale.

Babies were supposed to cry. They were supposed to wail their shock and bewilderment and anger and fear and whatever they might feel at this new, unfamiliar world to the skies. They were supposed to show off a good, sturdy set of lungs to indicate a strong firebender-as was expected of this noble line. This pale boy remained silent as though asleep, not moving to make any noise other than the soft, tired breaths he took in and out. This baby hadn't even been breathing when it came out.

The old, leathery woman who had delivered him had quickly turned him over and given him a good smack on the behind. That same slap that always started the wailing had only coaxed a whimper out of the tiny child, followed by a little gasping noise as he took his first breath of air. The little nose had crinkled faintly at the antiseptic smell, but that was it. No crying.

Babies were supposed to sleep, or they were supposed to look around at this new world and the faces of their family with wide, curious eyes. This pale, silent boy did neither. Or perhaps he was asleep. It was hard to tell.

Around half of the babies in this nation-the proudest nation of them all-were born under the strong, summer sun. It was considered good fortune that promised a resilient child, but more than that, it made birth easier. Sun strengthened the people of the Fire Nation, and mothers and newborns were no exception. It was not uncommon for a child to be born in the softer glow of spring, or even in autumn's subtler light. But winter? It was the most common season for stillborns.

This baby, his son, Zuko, had been lucky to be born. Ozai frowned quietly and slipped his hand onto Ursa's shoulder, still half-afraid that the child would not live. Her contented, weary sigh reminded him of how frantic he'd been moments ago as he'd paced the hall outside of the room. Was it normal for the husband to be chased away during the delivery? Wasn't he supposed to be in there for her? The snatches of conversation he'd caught from bustling assistants coming two and fro with water, towels, little vials and any other sort of supplies they needed only further undid the man.

…_wasn't due until spring… _

…_breathing too hard, won't calm down… _

…_bad pains… _

…_worst I've ever… _

…_Isn't it strange? A winter baby in the Fire Nation-from Sozin's bloodline, no less! Bad luck…_

…_Do you think she'll make… _

…_has to… _

…_But the blood, so much…_

Then had come the screams-the ear-shattering, mind-wiping screams that ripped from his wife's throat and echoed through the palatial halls. He'd disregarded their orders and bolted back into the room anyway. If he had to stay out of the way, fine. As long as he was there to hold Ursa's hand through it, it would be okay.

"Congratulations, Brother!" A hardy slap on the back jolted Ozai from his thoughts, and the assault was continued with a brief hug. He drew back from the arms encircling him quickly, fighting a surge of annoyance.

"Iroh," he greeted through clenched teeth. But the Crown Prince of the Fire Nation had already moved on to sit gingerly on the edge of Ursa's bed. It groaned at the added weight, dipping in the middle. The broad grin on the new Uncle's face only widened as she smiled at him.

"Iroh," she greeted in a tired but happy voice. Baby Zuko was rocked gently in her arms-back and forth, back and forth. "Look at him," she whispered. "Look at our little Zuko. Isn't he wonderful?" The pride in her voice made Ozai flinch. Shame overcame him as he looked at the closed eyes. Did it matter if the child-no, Zuko-had struggled to come into this world? He was there now, and, mercifully, Ursa was still there as well.

Prince Iroh beamed at his new nephew, pride shining in his eyes. "Indeed he is!" His hand dwarfed Zuko's face as he tickled the boy's chin with one finger. Zuko sighed and leaned into his mother more, definitely asleep now. "He is quite the little fighter!"

Ozai looked up sharply. "Fighter?" He bit back a snide comment, instead looking at Iroh in disbelief.

"Of course he is," Iroh agreed, smiling easily. "Not many have such a struggle to come into this world." Not many that lived, at least. "And look, here he is anyway. Strong boy." Nothing about the way the prince grinned or spoke indicated he was saying it merely to boost the parents' pride. Though Ursa could have burst from pride at the words.

"Our fighter," she repeated. Carefully slipping a hand beneath Zuko's head to tilt it up, she pressed her lips to his forehead. The lips curved into a smile as she lowered her son's head again just to raise him above her own. "Here, Ozai, hold him."

Iroh's laughter irritated the floundering man who wasn't quite sure how to hold this thing. Wasn't Zuko fragile enough? What if he broke him? What if- Thoughts broke off as his son turned over in his awkward hands, head nuzzling weakly into the warmth of his father's chest. An uncertain smile finally touched Ozai's face.

"Hello there," he said quietly. "Zuko. Are they right?" The question was light, but the searching look he gave his son was not. "Are you a fighter?"

"Hey!" Ozai fumbled, nearly dropping the child at the sudden shout. "Hey, can I come in yet! Dad? You said I could see my little cousin!"

"Alright, alright, yes. Come meet Zuko, Lu Ten." Iroh chuckled as he looked at the boy peering around the doorway. "But please, calm down. You sound like an impatient child. Not very befitting of a ten year-old prince. That-" Iroh smirked. "-And you're going to wake him."

The normally-responsible Lu Ten ignored the chastisement and zipped into the room, returning Lady Ursa's wide smile. He immediately reached for the baby and took him when Ozai released him easily. "Hey, little cousin," he greeted warmly. Nothing about the way Lu Ten held Zuko was awkward or uncertain. He radiated excitement. "It's nice to finally not be the youngest around here. Maybe you and I aren't real close in age, but just you wait! Once you're old enough to learn, I'll be old enough to teach you some great firebending tricks."

"And how do you know he's a bender?" asked Iroh, amused.

Lu Ten glanced up, confused. "What else would he be? If he's Uncle Ozai's son, he's got to be a strong one too, right?"

Finally aroused by the commotion around him, Zuko sighed again and blinked his eyes open. Ozai couldn't help but feel a small rush of pride at their color. Gold. It was a trait only possible for a firebender. His frail son would one day command the flames as well.

"Oh!" Ursa gasped, taking her son back. She looked into her son's eyes with pure love, smitten with the warm, golden color. "You have your father's eyes, little one."

More importantly, Ozai thought, he would have his father's _fire._ But even as he watched the others grow closer and coo and smile over the child, he found himself believing Iroh wrong. No matter what the crown prince had said, Zuko was not "a fighter." He was lucky. He had come so close to dying or causing his own mother's death. The healers hadn't said so, but there had been no need.

His hand clenched into a fist silently at his side. Ursa-he could have lost her.

The hand unclenched again as Zuko stirred in his mother's arms. Ozai nodded once, the faintest of smiles on his lips again as he joined the others. No, Zuko was not a fighter. But in time, he would be.

After all, nothing less from Ozai's son would be acceptable.

**AN:** First story posted on this account. Yay? This story inspired by Zuko's statement: _"My father says she (Azula) was born lucky. He says I was lucky to be born."_ It's possible that a few more chapters will follow. ...Which is why this was called "Fighter" instead of the main title, Birthday. :P Sorry for any confusion. *bow* A look at Azula's birth will probably follow next.


	2. One

**One**

The little boy was still frail. His first year of life had been spent fighting off sicknesses of all sorts, and even now he would scare his mother with coughing fits. But he'd made it here.

He didn't understand what all of the fuss was about. He didn't understand what he was supposed to do with the single light they kept holding to his mouth if they were just going to take it away when he grabbed for it. And no, Zuko did not understand why boxes were shoved at him and then taken away to be torn apart by his parents. Then everyone started singing. It wasn't one of the soothing sounds he was used to falling asleep with. Did they want him to sleep? The little prince looked up at them all in complete confusion. He wasn't tired.

But the happy sounds and giggles continued with the song, and soon the tyke was smiling. No, Zuko did not understand what all of this was about, but he clapped and kicked to the song anyway.

**AN:** Short chappie, I know. Next one will be up minutes after this one, though, and it's much more satisfying. Azula's birth is up as a separate story and is entitled "Born Lucky."


	3. Seven

**Seven**

"Come on, Uncle Iroh! The zoo! The zoo! You promised, remember?" Zuko dug his heels into the soft, damp ground as he leaned forward with new determination. By now, he knew the meaning and privileges of this day all too well. Eyes squeezed shut as the young boy huffed and strained.

Iroh laughed as he was pulled along by the sleeve. "It's hard to forget when you remind me every few seconds, my nephew." He looked down at young Zuko fondly, smiling at the lad's enthusiasm and…surprising strength. Iroh had to admit that the boy's absence of brute force was more than made up for by his obstinacy.

Iroh could have pulled his arm away if he'd wanted to. Which he might have to do, he thought with a silent wince. Was this really about the zoo, or was it about seeing if arms could come off?

"Patience, Zuko," he reprimanded. "Look at the turtleducks over there." Iroh waved to the placid waters where two turtleducks and three of their young paddled in circles. One of the turtleducklings was pecking at a stray twig that had fallen from the lone tree while its siblings quacked and swam after their parents. "They aren't in any hurry, now are they?"

Zuko stopped and turned to give his uncle an incredulous look. "Why would they want to go to the zoo? They'd make better food there than zoo pets." The boy frowned, looking down in thought. "Dad says they wouldn't live without our help. He says they're spoiled."

Iroh laughed and patted the boy on the head. "Both very good points. Your father is half-right. Here in the Fire Nation, even the winters are usually warm enough for birds to stay put." He watched in amusement as the youngest turtleduck nibbled at the branch before dropping it. The fuzzy brownish thing quacked loudly and turned its back on the stick as if betrayed. Not food. "But there is the occasional cold season that forces the birds to migrate."

The little creatures had momentarily distracted Zuko from his goal, and he looked up at his uncle with wide eyes. "But ours don't, right?" He didn't wait for an answer. "They stay right here because we could still feed them and warm the water up, right?"

Iroh shook his head, fighting another smile. Whether the boy had learned it or not yet, turtleducks were a good way to foretell how harsh a winter would be. Most years, they stayed and the winter would be mild.

"No, Zuko. If winter were to be colder than it is now, and that could very well happen, then they would fly away. You'll find that, no matter how spoiled or coddled something may seem, that there is often an inner strength. It's not always true-weakness, laziness, lack of common sense-they can kill. But-" He smiled.

"Put one of those turtleducks in a tough spot, and you'll find that they're not all that different from the ones raised in the wild. Adversity, my nephew, is the harshest teacher, but it is also the strongest."

Having lost interest by now, Zuko fidgeted and tugged at his black vest before casting a longing look at where the city lay. "…Zoo?" he finally asked, turning pleading, honey gold eyes to Iroh.

"Alright," Iroh sighed. "But your mother told me something about the zoo today."

Zuko watched him hesitantly. "What was it?"

Iroh shook his head remorsefully. "You have to wait until your birthday to go."

The frightened look melted into an ecstatic smile. "It is my birthday today! Remember, Uncle? You told me 'happy birthday' this morning! You did! And then you promised the zoo!"

Iroh's eyes followed the boy as he bounced in place. "So I did. But are you sure you don't want to begin practicing with your mother's gift? I know a very capable teacher for the tsungi horn, after all." The crown prince teaching music lessons instead of combat lessons… Now there was something the advisors and royal court would love. Iroh chuckled inwardly. While his military renown was revered throughout the courts, the courtiers tended to think their prince a touch eccentric. Well, who wasn't?

Zuko pulled a face and stuck his tongue out. "No thanks. The tsungi horn is kinda…girly."

"Girly?" Iroh tried his best to look offended instead of breaking into a laugh. A hand was placed over his chest in mock hurt. "I happen to play it myself, you know."

A few seconds ticked by before Zuko blinked off the shock. His shoulders rose in a shrug. "Well, I guess that's okay. You drink tea." He nodded once as if that explained everything.

"Tea is girly?"

"Tea is yucky."

"Ah. I see." The logic of a child… Iroh raised an eyebrow. "My own nephew dislikes tea? I'm shocked!"

A cool gust of wind rushed through the quiet area, covering up Zuko's shudder well enough. "It tastes like grass. …Cooked grass. Only more like water than grass."

"Zuko, how do you know what cooked grass tastes like?" Iroh already had a feeling.

The child reddened and looked down, shuffling his feet. "Azula said it was good. And if she could eat it, I wanted to try too." He scowled. "But she just thought it was funny when I spat the green glob out again. I don't think she's even tried it before."

Iroh shook his head. "Probably not. Not everyone tells the truth all of the time, and your sister enjoys teasing you." The smile reappeared. "It's how she plays with you. It's not a good habit, but don't worry, she'll grow out of it. We'll all make sure of it."

Zuko nodded and opened his mouth.

"Zoo?" Iroh guessed. At the eager nod, Iroh shrugged. "Alright. I suppose they should be open by now. Come along, Zuko, but stay close."

"Like a turtleduck?"

Iroh put an arm around the boy's shoulder, giving him a light hug before guiding him away from the pond. "Exactly like a turtleduck."

Zuko frowned. "Do I have to quack?"

"No, no. I think we can skip that part."

"Okay." Relieved, Zuko returned to his excited state. Soon he was babbling nonstop about how he hoped they got there for feeding time and how he hoped they had tigerdillos or-even better-the lionwolves-his favorite! Well, dragons were his favorite, but zoos didn't seem to have those. If they did, then the dragons would definitely be his favorite! And how…

Iroh was content to listen as they walked. Lu Ten was like this when he was this age. Now, though, he was in advanced military training. His son had already surpassed the expectations that even the royal court and Azulon himself had set. There was nothing to dissuade anyone from believing that, with time, Lu Ten would surpass even his father.

Still, there were times Iroh missed the days like this they'd shared-the ones where his son had babbled on and on about nothing in particular. He smiled as he shook himself from the thoughts to listen to Zuko again.

"-so does that mean that the wolfbats really could lose their tales?"

Suddenly, Iroh found himself wishing he'd heard the first part of that sentence.

* * *

"…A tsungi horn?"

Ursa laughed and leaned into her husband. "Why not?"

He pulled her into his side, but still managed a half-surprised and half-disapproving look at her. "It could have been a dagger, or a sword, or…anything really. But a tsungi horn? He should be learning to fight, not practicing music."

Ursa's mouth quirked into a wry smirk. "Judging by the crushed look on his face, you won't have to worry about him touching it. Funny, I was so sure he'd like it. He was fascinated with the music players at that last play I took him to. Still...You have to admit he recovered well." The disappointment had been wiped off his face in seconds. He'd looked at her with the biggest smile he could muster and had tried to seem excited at the twisty horn.

The window they looked out of peered out into the royal garden. Ozai's frown deepened as he watched his brother and his son laugh and walk away from the palace. "He should be practicing his forms before going to the zoo," he murmured absently.

Ursa sighed, resting her head against her husband's shoulder. "Did you hear any of what I just said? Any of that at all?"

"Hm? Sorry, what?"

Ursa got the unfortunate feeling that he wasn't being funny. On purpose, at least. She laughed. "That's what I thought." Her amusement faded, replaced by a reproachful look. "Ozai, he needs more in his life than fighting and weapons and war games."

"Of course, Ursa. But he can't perform a single firebending move right yet!" He huffed, steam coming with the frustration. "Azula is two years younger than he is, and I swear she'll pass him up soon if he doesn't knuckle down and train."

It was Ursa's turn to frown. "Ozai, don't compare them. Please, it's unfair to expect him to learn at a certain rate just because Azula can. Zuko is trying. Can't you see that? He does try to please you."

"He gives up too easily," Ozai sighed. "I know he had a…rough start in life, and I'm happy that he's healthier now, believe that. But the boy needs to try harder. His grandfather expects as much as well."

Fire Lord Azulon was…disappointed in the child, to say the least. He seemed resigned to it, like it was expected from his second son's offspring. Nevermind that Ozai was as strong as his older brother. It only seemed to add to the pride he had for Lu Ten, Iroh's son. The old man would never say it aloud, but there was a quiet acceptance he held for that boy. And why wouldn't there be? Lu Ten was already in the military, but that only spurred him to train harder. The boy was well on his way to becoming a respected officer. Much like the beloved Crown Prince, Iroh.

There was a small amount of consolation in Azula. Already, Ozai felt that she would be special. She'd developed her talents earlier than most children. And while Zuko had burnt himself many times, Azula had more of a problem with burning other people. Neither were good, of course, but at least Azula could actually make enough fire to be a hazard. With proper guidance...

Hard, golden eyes narrowed as the two now far-off figures disappeared. The same resentment for his brother he always felt bubbled up. To think that someday, the crown would rest on his head. "If Zuko weren't so caught up in learning the ways of tea and foolishness from my brother, then maybe he would-"

"Ozai!"

Ozai looked at her for a long moment, and then sighed. Part of him wondered if this coddling was what kept their son behind in training. If he fell, Ursa was much too quick to run to him-to tell him to stop and rest or try again the next day.

"Never mind," he said dryly. "You're right, of course. I'm sure Zuko will learn eventually. At some point, he'll have to start really trying." Without waiting for his wife's reply, Prince Ozai turned from her and walked away. His steps echoed in the spacious hall, and Ursa listened to them until they faded completely.

She folded her arms on the ledge of the window and closed her eyes. Her head dropped to rest on her arms, and she breathed in. The mild breeze filled her lungs before it was released in a deep sigh. He loved the boy. She knew that, but at times, his expectations got in the way of that love. It bothered her, but surely he would see his mistakes in time. Surely he would see the boy fighting for his approval clearly some day soon.

"Oh, Ozai," she whispered. Her finger traced meaningless circles on the red paint. "He is trying for you. He tries so hard." Her eyes opened, and the woman stared at where her child and his uncle had been only minutes ago. "Why don't you see that?"

**AN:** In the show, Zuko irately refuses to play the tsungi horn for music night. That means he knows how, right? :P As promised, longer than the last one. *pokes title* The chapters will be numbered for the age Zuko is turning. Obviously, we'll be skipping some years. We skipped five here. Ten will probably be next.

Thank you for reviews so far, guys. Answers to questions have been sent, but... ^_^;; I'm trying to figure out how to post a comment on my story like you're doing in response.


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